Mr Darcy & Elizabeth: What Time Has Done, a JAFF romance, Ch 1
by alyssajeffersonbooks
Summary: Elizabeth, now twenty-six years old and seeing the world very differently than she once did, is relieved to learn that it is Colonel Fitzwilliam, and not Mr. Darcy, who is about to marry Miss de Bourgh. But this puzzling situation is not what it seems, and circumstances unfold that threaten the very stability of the Collins family and challenge all Elizabeth thought she knew.


_Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth: What Time Has Done_

 _Elizabeth Bennet is enjoying a summer tour of the lakes with her Aunt and Uncle when alarming news reaches her from Longbourn: her youngest sister has run off with militia officer George Wickham, and her father has followed them to London. But, when she returns home, the news is worse than she'd feared: her father is dead, and the remaining Bennets are turned from their home and desolate. When Elizabeth receives an invitation from her friend Charlotte Collins to be governess to her unborn child, Elizabeth has no choice but to accept._

 _Six years pass, and Elizabeth joins the Collinses and their three daughters on an eight-week's visit to Rosings Park for the wedding of Lady Catherine de Bourgh's nephew and daughter. Elizabeth, now twenty-six years old and seeing the world very differently than she once did, is relieved to learn that it is Colonel Fitzwilliam, and not Mr. Darcy, who is about to marry Miss de Bourgh. But this puzzling situation is not what it seems, and circumstances unfold that threaten the very stability of the Collins family—not to mention, challenging all Elizabeth thought she knew of her own heart._

 _Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth: What Time Has Done_

 _A Pride and Prejudice Variation Romance by Alyssa Jefferson_

Chapter 1

"There is no country more beautiful than England," Elizabeth Bennet said as she threw her weary body onto the sofa.

Her Aunt Gardiner smiled. "You must be a very experienced traveler, to have such a certain opinion."

Elizabeth glanced up at her and said with a smirk, "I am not. Indeed, I am not, but I defy anybody to show me any place in the world more beautiful than what we have seen today."

Mr. Gardiner, who was ordering their dinner from the inn staff at the door, now came in the room to join his wife in teasing their niece. "And to think that my business in town almost prevented us from taking our tour of the lakes! Why, had we not gone, our niece would remain in ignorance of England's beauty, perhaps forever!"

Elizabeth laughed and, having regained her breath, sat up straighter and said, "It would have been shocking, surely! But perhaps, through extensive reading and study, I might have been at least as much an expert on the virtues of the fair mother country as my sister Mary might be even now."

Mrs. Gardiner scolded Elizabeth for deriding her sister, but could not stifle a small laugh as she did so. "Now, Lizzie, do not be unkind. Mary is rather too studious, but there are worse things a young lady could be."

Elizabeth checked herself and took the hint, willing to allow that, while her younger sisters were all often silly and quite worthy of a little laugh, Mary was at least not as silly as the youngest two. Lydia and Kitty, young ladies of 15 and 17, seldom read anything, could never understand what they'd read if they did, and filled their time so irresponsibly with chasing after young men, purchasing things they could not afford, and arguing with each other, that they made Mary seem like a model of good behavior by comparison.

"Very true," Elizabeth said. "And after these four weeks we have spent touring the Lakes, I confess I rather miss my family. Not the sisters, very much, excepting dear Jane, but my father and mother. Well…my father, anyway, I miss a great deal."

Both Gardiners laughed at Elizabeth's too-honest assessment of her family picture, but did so with an air of not wanting to encourage her in it. But Elizabeth could hardly help it. She knew her family was, in many ways, ridiculous, and she dearly loved to laugh. How could anybody resist it? It was small consolation for the necessary pains and mortifications of being part of that family—a family that made quite a spectacle of itself among their country neighbors. Elizabeth had had the great advantage of being more influenced by her father than her mother in both nature and nurture. She was lively, sensible, clever, and open. Her eldest sister, Jane, was also more sensible than the rest, and in her, Elizabeth had a close friend and confidant who more than made up for the lack she found in the others. Her mother was perhaps the silliest and most foolish of the family—but, traveling with her mother's brother and sister-in-law, Elizabeth could hardly say a word about it to them.

"Were you at home," Mrs. Gardiner reminded her, "you would at least be missing one sister, anyway. Lydia is still staying in Brighton with Colonel and Mrs. Forster, is she not?"

"Oh! Yes, I suppose she is," Elizabeth said. "I do so wish that my father would have prevented it. But Lydia is so obstinate, I suppose he knew what he was about."

Mr. Gardiner nodded, but Elizabeth was sure he would never be so negligent of his own children as to allow them an opportunity to expose themselves in such a way.

To lighten the mood—for Elizabeth could not stand to be dreary and dull—she returned to her previous line of talk. "But what beauty we have seen today! I would not have traded it for anything in the world. The lakes were so elegant, and the trees in full bloom. Everything green, blue, yellow—full of life! I am so glad, I am so grateful, that we have come to tour the lakes!"

The Gardiners seemed very gratified by their niece's speech. They had been visiting the Northern Lakes, and were set to turn their trip back South after today's very picturesque walk and drive. The days were full of travel, the nights spent with meals at inns, packing and repacking trunks, and answering letters. They never stayed for more than two or three nights in any location, and so Elizabeth was about as tired as a young woman so energetic and lively can be. She was glad to spend tomorrow morning in the carriage, if only to have an opportunity for rest.

But the next morning, a letter arrived for Elizabeth at the inn, just as she and the Gardiners had been sitting down for breakfast, that made a sudden alteration to their plans. "Oh, it is from Jane!" Elizabeth cried. "It appears it has been redirected many times. We seem to have just missed it every time we leave an inn, for it is from yesterday week!"

She put aside her knife and fork to open the letter, eager to see what her sister had said. But the contents of the letter alarmed her so much that, when she was finished perusing it, she could not eat a single bite. It read:

 _My dearest Lizzie,_

 _I do not wish to alarm you as you enjoy your trip with our Aunt and Uncle, but I must share that a piece of alarming news has reached us here at Longbourn, and has only gotten worse since we first learned of it. Knowing that you are traveling and this letter may take some time to reach you, I was unwilling to send it at first. But now, I fear that it cannot be avoided. My sad news is this: Our sister Lydia has left the Forsters' house. She has run off to elope with—what will you think?—with Mr. Wickham! I know that you must be as alarmed as I was when you read his name, knowing what we know now about his infamous behavior and wild living. But, as none of our dear family or friends knew this same history, we spent the week waiting for their wedding visit to Longbourn. However, yesterday we received news that was much worse—news that has caused us to rethink everything. I could not delay writing any longer—indeed, every moment is precious. Colonel Forster has visited us here at Longbourn. He came to tell us that he fears Mr. Wickham never intended to marry Lydia! He had been hoping to flee Brighton, having many debts there, and Lydia came with him under false pretenses of marriage. Her note to Mrs. Forster, at least, convinces us all that she never intended to do anything quite so wicked—but what can she do now? She is entirely at Mr. Wickham's mercy, and we know what kind of man he is! Lizzie, we are all very concerned, so much so that our father has decided to depart for London tomorrow, where they were last traced, to seek them out. As you are so far from us now, and our Uncle cannot reach London before at least three or four days from your receipt of this letter, I am afraid that it may be too late to assist him. But time is of the essence. I beg, as soon as you receive this letter, that your party would end your tour of the lakes and return to Longbourn. We shall need your assistance as soon as may be._

 _Yours affectionately, etc._

Elizabeth was far too astonished to read the letter aloud. Having gasped three or four times while she read it, she attracted the attention of her aunt and uncle, who took the letter from her hands as soon as she held it in their direction and read the horrifying communication.

"Good heavens!" cried Mrs. Gardiner. "Lizzie, what does Jane mean? What does she mean, what you know of Mr. Wickham?"

Mr. Gardiner, meanwhile, said, "I shall call our carriage directly. We will leave as soon as it is ready, and go directly to Longbourn."

He left the room, and Mrs. Gardiner repeated her question to Elizabeth. "What is it that Jane refers to in her note, Lizzie?"

Elizabeth did not want to tell her aunt all that she knew; she settled for communicating only part. "Mr. Darcy has told us—or rather, told me—a true account of his history with Mr. Wickham. It is…it is not as Wickham told us it was. He did receive his promised inheritance from Mr. Darcy, but he squandered it. He is not a respectable young man, Aunt—as you can clearly see from this letter!"

Overcome by emotion, Elizabeth could say no more. The further details of her knowledge of Wickham were impossible to share, for she was almost shaking with horror at the discovery of this dreadful news. That her own sister should be a victim of this unprincipled, undisciplined, horrid man! Elizabeth knew what she could not share with her aunt—that Wickham had taken advantage of other young women before Lydia, and that he had no principle besides selfishness to guide his actions at any time. Though she had once been his friend, she was so no longer, and now to learn that her sister's very respectability in the world—indeed, the whole family's respectability—depended on Lydia marrying such a man! It was more than Elizabeth could bear, and her worry and fear escaped through frantic tears. No calmness, no peace could touch her until they were seated in the carriage a half an hour later, on the long road back to Longbourn.

For three days, the party traveled along a series of wet, dirty roads. Every scene they had passed on the journey, scenes that had struck Elizabeth with their picturesque beauty on the way north, now seemed dull and dark, omens of the evils that were before them. Elizabeth was naturally high-spirited, and it was difficult to keep her down for long. But her knowledge of Mr. Wickham, and indeed her knowledge of all her family, made her almost agonizingly impatient to be at home.

She was nervous for many reasons. While she knew she could not do much to help find Lydia and Wickham, her Uncle Gardiner could. Her father, alone in London, would have such terrible stress and worry upon him! To be alone in such a situation, with few connections and limited resources, would be dreadful. Elizabeth loved her father dearly, for she had always been his favorite daughter, and he was quite an easy choice to be her favorite parent. To get her uncle to him as soon as possible was a very high priority for her, and until they could do so, she was continually wondering how her father was getting on in London alone and wishing there was anything she could do to help him.

She also feared for Jane, as the only person left in the family home at Longbourn with any sense or reason. Her remaining sisters, Mary and Kitty, were neither of them likely to offer help or comfort to Jane. Mary was bookish and solemn, often preaching doom upon her sisters, and yet seldom understanding fully the things she had read. She was probably spending her days bemoaning her wayward sister, recommending that the family throw her off, and advising her sisters to lock up their own virtue as tightly as may be. On the other end of the spectrum of silliness would be Kitty, next youngest after Lydia and incredibly attached to her. Kitty was not as obstinate and flirtatious as Lydia, but she was so easily influenced by her that her behavior when Lydia was near her was quite as bad as her sister's. But without Lydia, it was as though Kitty did not know how to be. She was uncertain and timid, and in her confusion, would be a nonsensical, foolish companion for her eldest sister.

Their mother, too, was perhaps silliest of all. A woman with very little sense and acutely active nerves, she had been a prize bride to their father when they were young. She was the daughter of a Meryton attorney, and very beautiful. But her lack of wits soon outstripped her every other charm and became her defining characteristic. She was insipid, silly, loud, and rude—and totally without understanding or awareness that she was any of these things. She adored and loved her youngest daughter so much that it was quite possible Lydia's turning out so wild was a direct result of the mother's overindulgence. But, without the good sense to recognize that her own behavior had done it, Mrs. Bennet would be good for nothing but blaming everybody else for having used her and her daughter very ill. And poor, dear Jane would be caught in the midst of all of it, with nobody to share the burdens of bringing sense and order to the house. Yes, Elizabeth was very eager to be home.

The days wore by with no variety except for the increase in rain, for the weather which had been uncommonly sunny and fine during the previous week's tour of the lovely lake lands was now making up for lost time by storming heavily from sunrise to sunset. For three long, dreary days, the traveling party was assaulted by continual rains that seemed to mirror Elizabeth's spirits and mind. Perhaps occasionally the sun made a feeble attempt to shine from behind dark, heavy clouds, but soon the clouds would stomp it out, layering heavily upon the daylight with wave after wave of gloom.

Passing her time in this monotonous manner, Elizabeth began even to pity Lydia. She knew her sister, though silly, had a very affectionate heart. She was inclined to become attached easily, and her attachments were always strong. If she had been so in love with Wickham as to leave the protection of her friends to elope with him, then the shock of not being married after all must have been enough to wound even her astonishingly high spirits. What would a girl like Lydia be driven to do, when crossed in love? She certainly would not handle it with the dignity of a fine woman such as Jane, or with the proud resentment of a man. Lydia would be driven wild by it. Perhaps it would be better for her to marry even Wickham, than to be jilted by him.

But no—how could it be better for anybody to marry such a man? It was not, for Elizabeth knew something about Mr. Wickham that none of her family, excepting Jane, knew: that he had, the summer before last, planned an elopement with another young lady, one with a great fortune—Miss Georgiana Darcy. Elizabeth had received the information privately from the young lady's brother, and therefore considered herself not privileged to share it publicly. But it convinced her of the sort of man Mr. Wickham was. Lydia would be much better off not marrying him, if only she could believe it to be the case. But Elizabeth's knowledge of Lydia's understanding made her suspect that Lydia would never be able to understand or properly comprehend such a situation, nor would she ever acknowledge that her own lack of fortune and connections made her a poor choice for almost anybody's bride. With their family fortune entailed away from the female line, the Bennet daughters had almost nothing to recommend them, and if Lydia were to disgrace them in this way, their reputations would be so sunk that probably nobody would ever want to marry them.

The night before they were to arrive at Longbourn, the Gardiners and Elizabeth stopped at an inn for dinner only twenty miles from home.

"Cannot we continue tonight?" Elizabeth asked as they sat down at table. "Cannot we go on? The sun will set in an hour, and even then, there shall be some lingering light. Cannot we get to Longbourn tonight?"

Elizabeth knew it was a hopeless case, but she had to ask. Her uncle's face looked kindly on her as he reminded her, "But the horses, Lizzie. They cannot be always going on without any rest."

"I should also enjoy a rest," Aunt Gardiner said, with a small smile which Elizabeth could not return.

"Cheer up, Lizzie," Uncle Gardiner said. "It will not be all so bad as you think. Jane's letter is two weeks old now, and for all we know, your father has found Lydia and Wickham already and they are now married."

Elizabeth shook her head, but remained silent. It would be impossible to share what she knew with her aunt and uncle now. They were both still trusting in the good impression of Wickham's pleasing countenance and charming manners. They both still thought he was a good sort of man, and without revealing too much, Elizabeth could not enlighten them to the truth about him. Besides, if her sister really was married to him by now, then it would be better if nobody ever learned the things she knew.

"To have a daughter married will make your mother very glad," Mrs. Gardiner went on, and Elizabeth had to agree to that, although her mother's gladness was not a high priority for Elizabeth at the moment.

"And your father will be relieved of the expenses of Lydia's upkeep, which I'm sure will make him glad," her uncle said, and at this little joke, Elizabeth almost laughed.

"Your sister Kitty will also improve, as she must spend more time with you and Jane, and you shall be such a good influence on her," Mrs. Gardiner said, and Elizabeth was at last cheered enough to smile—for her spirits always rose, whenever they were low. Nothing could keep her down forever.

"Very well," she said, smiling while she shook her head. "You are right that things may be better than I fear, and I will not continue to wallow in worry. My fear cannot prevent evil, and if evil awaits tomorrow, at least I can be happy today."

"That's a girl," Mr. Gardiner said with a smile, and he passed a bowl of potatoes to Elizabeth, whose appetite was now increasing enough for her to eat. She forced herself to be pleasant, to be positive, to trust in the good of mankind for as long as evidence to the contrary had not yet proven it impossible for her to do so. She tried to be like Jane, who saw goodness and virtue in everybody. Perhaps a letter from Jane, even now, was being forwarded from inn to inn, trying to reach her with good news of Lydia and Wickham.

It was this happy thought that Elizabeth carried with her when she went to bed that night, and it remained in place all the journey to Longbourn the next morning. It remained right up until the moment when they arrived at Longbourn, and the wails to be heard coming from inside the house—loud, impassioned, miserable wails—told the whole traveling party that something much worse than even what they had feared must have happened.

Elizabeth was first out of the carriage, stumbling toward the door almost as a blind woman would do, groping against the walls and stairs as they tripped her eager process toward the room from which the cries were issuing. It was the sitting room where her mother, undressed and in her nightgown, sat upon the sofa, surrounded by Mary, Kitty, and Jane, all with tear-streaked faces.

"Oh! Elizabeth!" Mrs. Bennet shouted, and she stood up upon seeing her daughter, Elizabeth assumed, to embrace her. But then she rushed toward her daughter with red-faced anger, reaching wildly for her throat. Elizabeth jumped back in alarm, and her uncle darted forward to catch his wayward sister and put her back upon the sofa. "You have been our ruin!" Mrs. Bennet screamed at her daughter, whose utter shock and horror made her speechless. She turned to Jane, who went to her at once and pulled her into a close embrace.

"Lizzie," Jane said through her tears. "You are come at last. Did you receive my letters?"

Letters? Elizabeth shook her head. "Only one letter. The first."

Jane cried harder, but Elizabeth pulled away from her and said, "Tell me! Whatever it is, you must tell me at once."

"It is…it is our father!" Jane cried. Elizabeth had not expected this, for she was sure something had happened to Lydia or Wickham. Nothing at all prepared her to hear her sister say the words that followed. "He is dead!"

 _This concludes the first chapter of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth: What Time Has Done. To read more, please find the full-length title on Alyssa Jefferson's Amazon Author Page. Thank you!_


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